Without Solace
by Braxenimos
Summary: The only thing that seemed to flood his mind was "this is my fault" repeating over and over again, as if hearing it enough times would somehow make it untrue.


_Without Solace_

To Freddie, his breathing ceased and wouldn't continue until he knew she was okay.

He stumbled through the hospital entrance just after Sam did; though, Sam wasn't even conscious let alone able to do any of her own stumbling. The noise from anything and everything around him went unheard as his thoughts could do nothing but focus on the broken form of his wife strapped to the gurney ahead of him. It hurt to look, but he couldn't take his eyes off of her.

Sam's head was in the worst shape, having been somewhat crushed in on its left side. It was hard to tell the extent of the injury but Freddie knew that it could easily be fatal, especially in conjunction with rest of her injuries, consisting of what was sure to be many broken bones and a completely crushed left arm. He could practically see the injuries happening, fitting them together like a puzzle piece in his mind when put together with the memory of the other car slamming into the side of hers.

He didn't even hear the nurse say it, but had somehow obliged when she stepped in front of Freddie and told him that he couldn't follow any further. His hands came up to pull tightly on the back of his head and his fingers intertwined as he couldn't figure out what to do; what to think. The only thing that seemed to flood his mind was "_this is my fault" _ repeating over and over again, as if hearing it enough times would somehow make it untrue.

Sam and Freddie had somehow faltered from their original feelings for each other over the course of their twelve year marriage. Everything was amazing in the beginning, finding the whole of each other's beings to be nothing short of perfect, but after a while things changed. There quickly came less time for the two to be together, just the two of them. May it be work, friends, different interests, or even their daughter; it didn't matter, life still got in the way of the one thing that no one ever seems to expect it to. It got to the point where Freddie showed up late in the evening, even though his job indicated he should be home much earlier, and Sam simply learned to place her attention elsewhere.

He wasn't sure how long he stood in that spot, but the outside noise still hadn't returned and Freddie finally found a seat. His hand gripped at his khakis just above the knee and held tight as his other hand wavered in front of him, shaking and covered in blood.

Anger had overcome the thirty-three year old in the moment that would haunt him forever. He had slammed his own car door, having just finished yet another argument with Sam, when he heard the crash. Rushing out immediately, he discovered that it was in fact her car and suddenly what truly mattered occurred to him and he instantly hated himself. He tried not to move her as someone behind him called 911, but couldn't help but do _something_ as he tried his hardest to get his wife to just wake up.

Freddie continued to stare at his bloodied hand, knowing full well that much of the rest of his clothes were coated in the crimson liquid as well. It came hard to believe that all of it was previously inside the person that he had promised to cherish forever, the person that he had treated in ways that he never thought possible of himself.

Sam had changed, not for the worst but for the better, and Freddie had lost sight of the important things in life. When they were younger all Sam wanted to do was party, let loose, and make love over and over again. While Freddie was never huge into the wild side of life, he still enjoyed the occasional beer and romp in the bedroom. But, Sam had diverted from that path in life once she grew into more responsibility and had a little girl named Haley, causing even the small amount of activities that the couple did together to dwindle away.

And Freddie searched for things that would make him feel "special" and "alive" elsewhere.

So he cried. Sitting in a chair at a hospital in the middle of the day, Freddie cried harder than he ever had in his life; harder even than the day his daughter was born, which was the last time Freddie could remember being truly happy.

The last time he had seen Sam, she was storming out of the Burger King that they had met at to eat lunch and discuss things. She had discovered sometime before the things that Freddie had been doing behind her back and was trying her hardest not to kick him to the curb. He had never actually cheated but attempts were made. Sam had found many different dating websites linked to his e-mail, one in particular being for married people seeking love in other places, as well as people he had actually been talking to and trying to set up meetings. At first Freddie had gotten angry, blaming Sam for changing and ignoring him, most notably in the bedroom, but had quickly changed his tactics once he realized that he was in the wrong and instead made attempts to prove that he was still faithful.

Things had started to get better. Freddie was in deep shit and he knew it. He cut all ties to any and everything he did outside of his life at work and with his family, but Sam couldn't quite get past what had already been done. He eventually got frustrated, calling her out and explaining that he had changed and had done everything she had asked of him to make things right. Freddie wanted things to just instantly be okay when they _couldn't_ be. There were still many years of doing things that Sam would never know about.

Sam was slipping away, now in a more literal sense.

Freddie remembered sitting hunched over Sam as he waited for the ambulance to arrive, practically screaming that he was sorry and wrong the whole time. He was desperate for her to know that if she would just wake up and be okay then nothing else would ever matter to him any longer. He wasn't much of a religious person but had grasped for anything he could and prayed to any and all things that might be listening in the moment.

And then a doctor was coming towards him, calling out his name, and he knew that the outcome of his prayers and pleas was about to be revealed as he jumped out of his seat to receive the news. Freddie thought he wasn't breathing before, but had instantly learned that the loss of breath he had previously experienced was nothing compared to what he felt now. His legs gave out and he stumbled sideways back into his chair, feeling as if he was at the edge of his life span ready to jump off at any moment.

Sam was dead. And he knew that it was his fault.

The doctor continued to try and talk to him but Freddie had blocked him out already. He sat, staring at any random spot, and adopted an almost dead expression. The doctor's words were heard but not understood. He even heard an older female call out his name but couldn't seem to acknowledge that person either. It wasn't until a much younger girl's voice called out "Daddy!" that he finally broke his trance and turned his head to find Haley letting go of Carly's hand and bolting towards him. He embraced his ten year old daughter as Carly talked to the doctor, placing a hand on her mouth and crying just moments after the conversation began.

Haley was a smart girl, putting two and two together and letting loose her own tears into her father's blood stained clothes. A long time passed, or at least what felt like a very long time, as the three sat in silence, shedding tears and simply taking in the fact that Sam was gone. Freddie felt like his life was over; he felt like he was going to have a heart attack and that there couldn't possibly be anything else in the world that would create a worse feeling.

Until his daughter finally spoke up again.

"Dad?" She said with a whimper. "Why did mommy die?"

* * *

**(A/N) **_Aaaaaaaaand cue Florence + The Machine's "No light, no light"._

_I've been in a bit of a funk lately when it comes to writing and have been finding trouble with motivation and what not. And coincidentally (...) I've also been experiencing some frustrating times in my life. So, I figured I would use that to my advantage and try to force myself back into writing by throwing a whole lot of anger and other emotions into something I made up on the fly. And here we are._


End file.
